


A Secret Admirer?

by the_welsh_woman



Category: Enola Holmes (2020), Henry Cavill - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gift Giving, Romantic Thoughts, Sherlock - Freeform, Sherlock has feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_welsh_woman/pseuds/the_welsh_woman
Summary: Two brown paper wrapped parcels await Edith in the kitchen of her shop.Total fluff because I like the idea of Sherlock and Edith together.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes - Relationship, edith grayston - Relationship, henry!holmes - Relationship, sherlock holmes x edith grayston
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	A Secret Admirer?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and thanks for reading. You can find me at thetaoofzoe on tumblr.

Two brown paper wrapped parcels, one atop the other, awaited Edith when she walked into the chilly kitchen on the morning of 05 September.

She stood in the doorway for a moment, peering curiously in at the boxes, wondering whether there had been a mis-delivery and they should have gone to the shop next door.

Prolonging her own anticipation, Edith shrugged out of her coat and crossing the room, hung it from the hook in the corner. She collected a few crisp dry logs from the dented metal pail near to the stove and began loading them into the stove’s clean firebox.

A good fire started first thing always lifted the spirits and made the day run smoother.

A small flame spluttered to life when she touched a lit match to the fluffy kindling she’d stuffed between the split logs. A few bursts from the bellows fed the fire enough to coax it to roar to life and satisfied, Edith knocked the heavy door shut with the tip of her boot. Dusting her hands together, she turned nervously to the awaiting parcels on the table.

The top one was thin and rectangular whist the bottom one was chunky, square and looked quite heavy. Both were carefully wrapped with clean white twine.

This was hand delivered straight from the shop, she thought examining the fresh ink stamp that boasted the name of the establishment and noting the lack of crinkles and dings and nicks in the paper that generally happened when the post got their harried hands on things.

The rising heat from the stove warmed the backs of her skirts and Edith stood motionless for a moment, her mind ticking through a list of what could possibly be contained in the packages. Excitement rose in her, tickling little butterflies in her belly. She pressed both hands eagerly across her belted midsection like a little girl waiting for Christmas and allowed herself to smile.

Just as she reached for them, one of the shop workers poked her head round the door jamb and giggled.

‘I see your birthday has come early, Edith,’ she said, eyes greedily on the two parcels.

Edith snatched her hands back from the boxes as if she’d been suddenly discovered in the midst of doing something illicit. She gave the woman a nervous smile and turned round to fetch her apron.

‘My birthday has already passed,’ Edith sang over her shoulder, hands busily working to tie the efficient knot in the apron strings behind her back.

‘Then,’ cooed the woman, slinking like a coy cat into the warming kitchen, ‘you, my love, have a secret admirer.’

Secret admirer.

The words increased the fluttering of the butterflies, but ever the private woman, Edith tossed an affectedly curious glance back at the parcels that sat on the table.

‘Oh, well, I wish,’ she lied. ‘But I was expecting these package… it’s… ahh… something I ordered. They’ve finally arrived.’

The woman’s face fell and it was exactly the reaction Edith wanted.

‘Oh,’ she said, the corners of her mouth drooping into a disappointed half-moon.

Edith watched her eye the parcels and knew more questions would be hot on her tongue, if she didn’t intervene.

‘Would you be so kind as to have John cut more wood?’

Edith picked up the wood pail, dumped out the remaining logs onto the floor and handed the pail to the woman.

The woman’s eyes slid from the parcels to the sooty pail and with a sigh, she grabbed it by the handle.

‘If I can find him,’ she said, sounding put upon and Edith made a shooing motion with her hands and followed her to the kitchen door, which she pulled closed and locked to preserve her privacy.

The parcels taunted her and she realised that her palms were moist and her hands trembled a little.

Secret admirer.

She tumbled the possibility over in her mind.

The idea of one was tantalising, but it was rare that she was in the company of enough gentlemen to have captured the attention of one. Wiping her hands on her apron, she approached the table, and decided to open the larger of the two boxes first.

She carefully unknotted the twine for later use and unpicked the dollop of adhesive that held the brown paper flaps closed. When the paper fell open, she saw a plain brown box. Working the top off of the box she gasped when she saw the contents.

Carefully she lifted out a delicately ornate red and blue patterned teapot. Placing it reverently on the rough and stained table top seemed like sacrilege, but it was the only place to put it for the moment. Glancing back into the box she saw two heavily wrapped lumps that turned out to be a pair of matching teacups and saucers.

Edith staged the teapot in between the two seated teacups and pulled out one of the chairs to sit down in front of the scene to admire the items.

‘So beautiful,’ she murmured, tracing a finger along the handle of the pot. ‘Who would send such a thing?’

She pulled the second parcel close and knew that it was a book. She unwrapped it less carefully and was distracted when a clean white card fell into her lap.

‘The Englishwoman’s Review,’ she read the book title aloud and turned the card over to read the neat script.

>>  
‘Knowledge is power and power can be dangerous. I trust you to keep both safe.’

Yours Respectfully,

Sherlock Holmes.  
>>

So, she thought with a pleased smile. Sherlock Holmes lived up to the free thinker that he touted himself to be because the book he’d gifted her was something his own brother would have her arrested for.

Edith went into her office and found a clean sheet of mailing paper upon which she wrote:

>>  
Dear Mr S. Holmes,

Please do come round to the shop for a slice of rose cake and a cup of tea. I have just now come into possession of an immaculate tea set and would like to christen it. This is an open invitation to be used at your leisure

Kindest Regards,

Miss E. Grayston.  
>>

She folded it, stamped it and when John finally turned up, carrying the wood pail into the kitchen, she ordered him to scrub his hands and hurry to deliver a special letter to Baker Street.


End file.
